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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27881782">GOLDFISH</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaded_firefly/pseuds/jaded_firefly'>jaded_firefly</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Whitechapel (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>M/M, season five</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 15:21:18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>633</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27881782</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaded_firefly/pseuds/jaded_firefly</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Chandler has been away, traveling for work, and returns to his partner's flat for some R&amp;R and to pick up his goldfish. He's met with an unfortunate surprise.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Joseph Chandler &amp; Emerson Kent, Joseph Chandler/Emerson Kent</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>GOLDFISH</h2></a>
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    <p>Chandler’s hands fumble, mimicking his eyes as they search for a set of keys. The creeping London fog married with the three broken streetlights leaves shadows where keys should be in Chandler’s duffel bag. </p><p>After a minute of searching, Chandler Successfully fishes a keyring from his duffel bag (loose files quickly snatched from the damp of cobblestone puddles) and selects the key belonging to Kent’s flat. </p><p>“Finally”, he gruffs, eyes rolling in relief and mild frustration. His watch reads 1:03. </p><p>Inserting the keys into the lock the door Chandler meanders into the flat, swinging his long coat onto the rack. </p><p>The kitchen light is on, illuminating the cheap vinyl tile--the quid-pro-quo for a central London flat. Sounds of water and crinkled plastic emanate from the dining room. Out of habit but maybe more out of experience Chandler reaches for his weapon. His coarse fingers hover over his hip. </p><p>“Kent…? Crystal…?”</p><p>“Joe!” Kent, dressed in a threadbare Colour of Bone t-shirt and what appears to be a pair of Chandler’s old slacks, springs from around the dining room corner into the kitchen hallway. </p><p>“Amazing I didn’t think your flight was getting in for another two hours! What a cool prospect!” Kent side steps, keeping his back, and thus arms, turned away from his partner. He sports a charming but nervous smile that carries to his set of caramel eyes. “I am just going to throw this thing away, outside, and I’ll be right back in, uh, the flatmate is staying with her sister so don’t worry about waking her up and I’ll, uh, stay there!” Kent slips away, and sprints to the front door. </p><p>“Emma!” Chandler calls out far too late, Kent already leaping out the front door. Chandler sighs. He leaves his duffel in the hallway to investigate the dining room. </p><p>The dining room lights are off but glowing with residual electricity. Chandler flicks them on. </p><p>Sitting on the table is Chandler’s goldfish (nameless to Chandler and Eduardo to Kent) presenting her laissez-faire swimming between faux-stone formations in the bowl. Chandler reaches to pick up the bowl, suspicion swimming behind his blue eyes, when--</p><p>“Joseph!” Kent, returned from his chilly London street adventure, slides his body between Chandler and the table. “It’s fantastic to see you, in fact so great that I think we should just head upstairs now and skip all the tea and catch up.” </p><p>Kent attempts to forcibly move Chandler away from the table and toward the staircase waiting at the back of the dining room but Chandler maneuvers Kent so the two are facing one another. </p><p>“You seem nervous Kent.” </p><p>“Nope just,” he runs his thumb along Chandler’s arm, “happy to see you.”</p><p>“The fish seems happy too”</p><p>“Really, I’ve never really been one to notice fish emotions”</p><p>“He seems different don’t you think?”</p><p>“Nope, just….” The two lock eyes. Kent knows the jig is up. </p><p>“Emma, did you kill my fish?” </p><p>Kent sinks his head and curls his arms around Chandlers’. </p><p>“I’m so sorry Joe, the first half of the week Crystal was feeding him then she left, and…” Kent, then followed by Chandler, look to the bowl with the new goldfish in it. The two turn, arms around each other’s waist, to stare at the fish as she continues her absent minding swimming.</p><p>“Eduardo was old anyway,” Kent smiles at Chandler’s use of his goldfish moniker and responds with a question--</p><p>“How’d you know that that fish wasn’t Ed?” </p><p>Rolling his eyes at Kent’s poke at their colleague, Chandler leans down to Kent’s ear, “Detective Inspector, you’ve never been very good at keeping your hands to yourself, much less behind your back” His mouth travels from ear to neck and the two continue their course to the staircase at the back of the dining room.</p>
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